


Seawater and Cigarettes

by BrookeLynnRyatt



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28005156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrookeLynnRyatt/pseuds/BrookeLynnRyatt
Summary: Betsy Trombone confronts Tot Clark about FWXBC's performance in the Coffee Cup finals.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Seawater and Cigarettes

I put the sax down on the table and glared at Tot while I lit up a cigarette. I could tell from his face he was more confused than sorry. Shithead. He really had no idea he had cost his team the cup. I might’ve been better off asking Arty. I took a long drag and exhaled right at him. He opened his mouth first. 

“Betsy, you’re kinda freaking me out.” 

“Yeah?”

“What’s this about?” 

I gestured to the saxophone sitting on the table between us. After a pause, he spoke up, clearly getting frustrated. 

“Pony’s saxophone?”

“You don’t listen. You space out and forget shit. I gave you an easy job, I reminded you to do it, you didn’t do it, you got creamed in the playoffs, and now you don’t know what you did wrong.” 

Now we were both pissed. Tot sat up straight and threw his arms up. 

“Don’t give me that shit, Betsy! I played hard, okay? I got a broken toe and I still played hard! Arty might’ve phoned it in, but I was doing my best the whole time! Meanwhile, your ass went down in the first round!” 

I sat up and took another long drag. I walked around the table toward Tot, and he stood up like he was ready to go. There was, well, no way he could’ve taken me on if I wanted to fight him, but I wasn’t that pissed. I picked the sax back up from the table and gestured again with my head, made sure he was looking. I pushed down on the water key, and sure enough, a long stream of water started flowing out of it, for what must’ve been like eight seconds. At first, Tot just jumped back. String players are always scared as hell of spit valves cuz they think they’re full of spit. After a little bit, he finally seemed to remember what we were arguing about. As the last few drops dripped out of the sax, Tot finally showed some remorse. 

“Shit, Besty.”

“Now I’m gonna go over this one more time.”

“Look, I’m sorry, it just slipped my mind, y’know?”

“Pony can’t empty this himself because he’s a horse, Tot. I do it for him. Except I can’t when I’m not there. So if he’s pitching, he needs this emptied out when?”

“Before… before the start of every game.”

“When before the start of every game?”

“When he gets back from fighting the ocean, hey, you don’t really think I lost us the cup, do you?” 

“I don’t know, he was looking pretty good out there, Tot. He went to twelve innings. That ain’t easy to do with a saxophone on a good day.”

“...yeah. Sorry, Besty. I. Ah, shit.”

“Well, I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” 

I dropped the butt of my cigarette into the puddle in front of me and put the sax back down. Tot just hung his head and didn’t say anything for a while. Then, just when I was about to leave, he stopped me. 

“Hey, d’you think pony’s like. Gonna be mad at me?”

“I don’t know, man. Pony’s a horse.” 

“...yeah.”


End file.
